And now I’m 119 pounds. Doing good so far.

The AC people are coming out Thursday so we can lose even more money to things that shouldn’t be breaking so soon till something else breaks, costing us hundreds, or even thousands, in another 3-6 months. And of course, the competency of these people will be hit or miss.

If Scot doesn’t show up this week, then he’ll come next week and wake me up while I’m trying to flip my schedule, all cuz God’s mad at me for tuning them out with my fan. Well, I assure you, I hate him just as much as he hates me. Maybe even more. I’m tired of the way he’s allowed people to fuck me over and run my life. I’ve been tired of it. For the millionth time, what did I ever do to these freeloaders to deserve this? Was I their slave master in a previous life or something?

Oh, how I wish we were fenced in with a gate that locks! I need to lock those cheeks out next week if they don’t come this week. Unless he backs off and gives me a break for a few months, but I don’t know. Coming three times in less than a month and a half makes me think he won’t be backing off anytime soon unless he gets a touch of consideration for Tom, at least, even though Tom’s hours haven’t stabled out yet.

Tom explained to me that old pieces of shit trailers like what’s in back, aren’t equipped with the number of amps newer houses like ours is, so they use propane, rather than all-electric. That’s what that gas truck was that I saw.

Tom was digging trenches earlier to run the pipes into the plants we hope to plant some century, and I could faintly hear music. Just barely. Couldn’t tell where it was coming from, though. I think it was coming from a house and that it was probably either the renters or Dan’s. I just don’t get how so many people can afford to be home all the time.

I’m not sure anymore if the older woman lives back there or not. Maybe the younger one with the kids is the wife of the older guy. Maybe she’s not as young as she looks. About every other time I pass by the kitchen window, I see one, two or even a few people hanging out front. I really don’t like to have to see them, but at least they haven’t been noisy yet. It’ll be interesting to see as it gets hotter if the heat keeps them indoors. It may not. A lot of people don’t seem to mind the heat.

It’s not even March yet and already it’s warming up for the year.

Got a letter from Mary yesterday, who finally ran into Pérez. She said she saw her at Visitation and told her I said hello and that she had a letter from me to give to her and that Pérez thought that was way cool. However, she doesn’t know when they’ll stick her back in M Dorm. Remember, Pérez wasn’t common to M Dorm. I kind of have a feeling she’ll be back in M Dorm soon, though. I hope so! And I hope I get a reply from her, if only just once, but I won’t get my hopes up. What a nice keepsake that’d be, though! Ironically, I recently had a dream where I ran into her somewhere and was glad to finally be able to say the things I wanted to say that I was too excited to think of saying when I left the jail. Then she wrote me a quick note to take with me, telling me I was special to her.

In reality, I know I really was special to her. I really liked her a lot myself, even though we only saw each other 6-8 times.

Mary sent me 4 pictures of her son which I sent back in case she didn’t have copies.

She also sent 8 pages of stuff for me to type up for her.

She asked about my visiting her and I told her it couldn’t be till at least May. Tom’s not sure whether or not there’s some kind of a monthly report that’d get back to Scot, but I’m not worried about it for two reasons. When he asks if I’ve had any police contact, I take that to mean street pigs. Also, when he tells me not to associate with anyone with a record, I assume that means people on the outs who’ve been tried and convicted. Not unsentenced witnesses in jail.

But you know what? He can tell me anything he wants cuz I don’t care. I’ve served this world enough and have catered to other people’s demands way longer than I should have. No one’s going to pick and choose who I associate with. This state doesn’t own me. The bulk of my 36 years has been spent doing what others told me to do, going where others told me to go, saying what others told me to say, and being what others told me to be. Well, no more! The next 36 years belong to me! I decide what to do. I decide where to go. I decide what to be. I decide what to say. I’m nobody’s puppet anymore.

I doubt Scot will find out, but hey - I’m an adult and I have to live my life. There needs to be more in my life than having to do for the freeloaders who tormented and provoked me and my husband for years.